


Hearts and Minds

by Cxellover



Series: Doctor and Servant [7]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, The Marketplace Series - Laura Antoniou
Genre: BDSM, Children In Danger, Holmes Children - Freeform, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Multi, Original Character(s), no one dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9285368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cxellover/pseuds/Cxellover
Summary: Here is another story in my Holmes/Marketplace mash=up.The only thing you need to know from the previous story is that Mary had twin boys after sleeping with both John and Sherlock. The boys are named James and William. William looks like Sherlock and James looks like Watson but they are both very clever lads.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here is another story in my Holmes/Marketplace mash=up.
> 
> The only thing you need to know from the previous story is that Mary had twin boys after sleeping with both John and Sherlock. The boys are named James and William. William looks like Sherlock and James looks like Watson but they are both very clever lads.

“James, I’m scared.”

“I know William.”

“Father must be going round the bend.”

“Shhh, this isn’t easy to do.”

“It’s a six tumbler system.”

“I know that!”

“Stop, someone is coming.”

The two boys scampered away from the door and back to the straw pallet on the floor against the cold stone wall of the basement. They waited for the door to open but the footsteps walked by the door.

The boys let out a breath that they hadn’t even known that they were holding. 

The only light in the room was coming from under the door. They had figured out that they were locked in a storage room in the cellar of a hard house. 

The man they named Scar because of the scar running from the top of his forehead down past a milky blind eye and his right cheek brought them food twice a day and emptied the bucket that they used as a toilet. 

They had seen two other men but only in shadow. 

They had figured out that where ever they were, it was not London.

William took James’ hand and said, “Don’t worry our fathers will find us.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then we will just have to escape right?”

“Right, now let’s get back to that lock.” James pulled the thin metal lockpicks and attacked the lock again while William watched.


	2. Chapter 1

My Master Sherlock Holmes instructed me to write about the time that our sons seemed to vanish off the face of the earth which we moved it along with Heaven to find them again not knowing that our boys could take care of themselves.

I do not know if this will ever see light but both Mycroft and Sherlock wanted me to write it down with the help of James and William to tell their side of the story. Or rather James is helping me at the instruction of Mycroft.

It had been seven years since we had returned from our adventures with Moriarty. Holmes had embraced life with both hands and threw himself back into his work. 

We were in France finishing up a case for the government when we got a telegram from Mycroft that we had to return to England immediately. 

“Watson, I fear that something dire has happened,” said Holmes, “I have never known my brother to be so insistent on our return. I guess our holiday will have to wait again.”

I tried not to let disappointment show on my face but did a bad job of it.

“There will be time so enough. Let’s go see what my brother wants of us.”

That there was a carriage and escort waiting for us at the dock informed us that something terrible had happened. We were rushed back to London and the Diogenes Club in what I considered record time. 

Holmes and I went through the door to find Graves waiting for us to escort us to Mycroft. 

Mycroft looked the worst I think I had ever seen him. His color was horrible. He looked like he was about to pass out but there was that Holmes nervous energy about him. 

Sherlock was about to make some comment but seeing his brother’s condition, he choked it back and asked, “What happened?”

Mycroft pointed to a piece of paper on his desk. 

Holmes picked it up and read it. His face blanched and the paper fell from his fingertips.

I grabbed it as it fell and read it.

_Mr. Holmes  
By now you know that your two sons are not at Eton. _

_We have your boys and if you want to see them alive again, you will do exactly as we instruct you to do._

_First off no police or military. We see a hint of either and we will kill one of the boys._

_We will send further instruction as to what we want and how you may be able to get the boys back intact._

_We know you Mr. Holmes and we know what you really do for the government._

_Those who watch_

“They have our boys,” I said trying to keep the rage and panic that was rising in my gut from spilling out.

Both Holmes nodded.

“How?” I asked, “Why are they at Eton? They are only 11 years old. 13 Holmes, you told me that they would be going to Eton at 13.”

“It was decided that they would gain early admittance. They had out stripped their tutors and were deemed to be mature enough attend.”

“How many strings did you have to pull for that one?” I asked with frustration.

“Watson,” came the stern warning from my Master. 

I thought back to the last time I saw James which had been about four months previous due to the cases that Sherlock had taken. We had been very busy and traveling a lot. Now the hug that he gave me made more sense than it did at the time. 

“Why did you tell me?”

“Of what concern is it of yours?” shouted Mycroft, “They are my sons! They have been kidnapped from one of the few places that I though there was not a chance for them to be so.”

“James is….” I stopped short.

“James is what to you? What was our agreement? What does it say in your contract? What have you sworn and forsworn to do? Where does your allegiance ally?” Mycroft walked towards me and I could see his hand swing back. I braced myself for the strike that I knew would be coming.

Sherlock grabbed Mycroft’s arm before he could swing, “Stop it! Both of you. This is not doing the boys any good. Mycroft, John is concerned for the boys as are you. And may I remind you about the conversation we had about abusing my property”

Mycroft seemed to deflate and started sobbing. Sherlock took him in his arms and let him weep and cry his fears and anguish.

I was stuck to the spot. I had no idea how much Mycroft cared for the boys. I though he had seen the opportunity of the birth of the boys as a means to an end but he loved them as much as Sherlock and I did if not more. 

Sherlock comforted his brother and helped him to an overstuffed chair. He motioned to me and I went to the sideboard and poured Mycroft a stiff drink. I brought it over and knelt by the chair offering the glass to Mycroft. He took it formally and looked at me.

“I didn't mean to put them in harms way John. Believe me on that.”

“I do Sir,” I replied. 

Sherlock sat in the wing backed chair across from his brothers, “Now we just have to figure out where they are and how we are going to get them back.”

I went to the sideboard and poured him a measure of scotch and presented it to him like I had to Mycroft. He took the glass and looked at me, “We will find them and bring them home. You have my solemn oath on that.”

I took comfort in his words but shivered at what our poor boys were enduring.

“Now Mycroft I am sure you have already found out where the boys have been abducted. Let’s start there.”

Mycroft seemed to relax as his brother took charge of the situation. And I saw for the first time I saw a look of hope on his haggard face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this is coming together a little faster than I thought and I have had some spare time which I am using to write this.
> 
> Can't promise a chapter a day but that is my goal.


	3. Chapter 2

At our Uncle John and Uncle Sherlock’s request, we have recorded what happened to us during our first year at Eton and the adventure we had while there. 

My name is James Edward Sherriford Holmes. My slightly older twin brother name is William Basil Jeremy Holmes. We are the sons of Mycroft Holmes and his wife Lorna. Or rather that is how the world sees the two of us. Who we really are is a closely guarded secret that is only known very few people. How we found out is a tale in itself. This very one in fact. 

We have been told that this will never see the light of day so William doesn’t see the point of writing it. Uncle John explained the importance to us but it has apparently fallen on me. (In other handwriting is written ‘Not true’).

My brother and I had a typical upbringing for children of our social situation. We both proved to be bright and fast learners, which, we believe, drove more than one nanny and tutor to serious drink. I believe the term used was ‘handful’. 

Our father made sure that we had all that we could want but instilled in us a sense of responsibility and appreciation for what we had. 

Our Uncles made an appearance in our lives after our fourth birthday. Our father had read us the stories that Uncle John had written about our Uncle Sherlock from the time we were very young. 

Uncle John’s arrival was a bit unexpected to us. He was much thinner than I thought he would be. His hair was cut military short and he had a neatly trimmed beard. He looked very sad but once he realized I was looking at him, he masked his face well.

Father brought him home for dinner that evening and we questioned him about his adventures and his life and our Uncle Sherlock. I watched him very carefully and noticed something that I had seen before in the behavior of others in the house.

There was one question that he had not answered nor had we asked. I looked at William and he gave me a slight nod. I asked the question that we both had, “You were Uncle Sherlock’s body slave?” 

He looked startled and then composed himself quickly. He looked to Father for guidance but none was to be had since our Father looked stunned that I had asked that question.

Uncle John nodded.

“Then why is our Uncle Sherlock not here?”

His face fell and the look of utter sadness crushed my heart to look at. 

William and I looked at each other to figure out what to do. William said to me in our language, “Hug him. Tell him it is all right.”

I ran to hug Doctor Watson. He seemed startled but returned the hug very lovingly. William joined me in hugging the man trying to let him know that it was all right. Every thing would be fine.

“We are calling you Uncle John,” I said.

Our father seemed to regain his composure and we went off with our nanny having hugged our parents and extracted a promise from Uncle John to return.

The next day we found ourselves in front of our father’s desk which is not a position that anyone wants to be in especially if you have been naughty.

We went through our behavior wondering what we had done.

“You are not in trouble,” he started.

We both stiffened up and William signaled me to let him lead on this conversation.

“How did you know about John Watson’s position in the Holmes household?”

We relaxed just a bit. He hadn't found the hideout.

“Well,” said William, “we read between the lines of the stories you told us and Uncle John wrote for that magazine.”

“How so?”

“It was obvious if you looked at the whole picture…” started William.

Father interrupted, “Could someone outside the Marketplace see it?”

William looked at me and I shook my head ‘no’.

“No Sir, I don’t think that there is anything in what has been published to give even a hint of the relationship between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.”

It was then that we realized that we had walked into his trap.

He looked at us a little lost but composed himself quickly. He steepled his hands under his chin and look at us and said, “Now boys, how do you know about the Marketplace?”

We looked at each other figuring what we were going to say and then told our Father the path of logic based on our observations that led us to learn of the Marketplace and that the servants in our lives were owned by our father. 

Uncle Sherlock returned looking like a Raj Prince. He used the over the top outfit to make his face unrecognizable. Father treated him like a foreign dignitary until they got back to the safety of our house. To all the world it looked like Mycroft Holmes was again meddling in foreign affairs which had a number of people quickly scurry to get their affairs in order in case his gaze should fall on them after his meeting.

When he joined us for dinner, he was dressed like a proper British gentleman again.

I noticed that his clothes hung loose on him giving him a bit of a scarecrow quality. But it was obvious to both of us that the suit he wore was his. His hair was slicked back and he was freshly shaved of the beard he had walked in with. 

He didn’t have to tell is who he was. Standing next to Mycroft Holmes, it was pretty obvious that they were related. 

William went and shook his hand rather formerly and said, “It is a true honor to finally meet you Sir.” 

“And you as well,” he replied with a ghost of a smile on his face. I could see that both were memorizing the other.

“James,” he said offering his hand, “It is a delight to finally meet you too.”

I shook it and noticed a slight tremor in the shake. I looked at his wrists just poking out of his shirt cuffs and noticed scars that seemed to ring them. There was a story there to be told. 

He noticed where I was looking and pulled his cuffs down a bit covering the marks.

We had a nice dinner with our Uncle. I sat back and enjoyed the banter between both my father and my uncle and that between my uncle and my brother.

Something happened a couple of weeks later that allowed Sherlock Holmes to emerge from hiding and take his rightful place in English society.

We spent time with our Uncles and learned much from both of them.

William and I had our suspicions about our Uncles and what relationship they were to us but we never pursued it. Our father was our father and we loved him dearly. Our mother was our mother and we loved her dearly as well. We had a good life and we relished it. 

At the age of eleven it was decided that we should start our studies at Eton. Usually the age was thirteen but our father had convinced someone that we were ready for the rigorous system. Personally I think it was the Queen but William tells me that I am being silly thinking that. Either way we found ourselves at Eton finding our place among all the other fags. We were housed with the Kings Scholars having, apparently, been a legacy choice. 

Once the pecking order was sorted out and we proved to be able to give and take with the best, we were left alone for the most part. We did make some friends both within our year mates and some of the older boys. We were a bit of talk around the town having Sherlock Holmes for an uncle. Everyone wanted to know about him and his adventures. We told what we could. 

Our first half done, we had gone home for the holidays and spent time with our family.

We returned for the Lent half and found that some of the servants had been shuffled around during our absence. We thought nothing of it figuring that some contracts had concluded and others had been bought since most of the servants were owned by Eton College. 

We were busy with our studies when one of the other boys came with a note for us to attend the Master of the College.

It seemed strange to be summoned so late in the evening but we went along with the boy heading to the quarters of the Master. 

I have to say I didn’t see the men step out of the shadow. William did and tried to defend us. But they were grown men and they threatened the life of the lad who brought us the note. In short order we found ourselves with bags over our heads and frog marched to a waiting horse cart on the outside of the college. I heard a glass bottle open and shortly found a cloth stinking of ether being placed over my nose and mouth through the bag. I let the drug wash over me hoping that William sorted out what was happening.

I heard him say as I passed out, “Apparently you have no idea who my father is.”

I knew they thought he was talking about Mycroft Holmes not knowing that William was talking of another Holmes entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it looks like it is going to be one chapter from John's POV and then one from James' POV. 
> 
> I am really hoping that this is going to work and you are entertained.
> 
> Comments and Kudos fuel my muse and are cuddled and read a lot.
> 
> Thank you for pointing my works out to others as well.


	4. Chapter 3

We found ourselves in short order at Eton in the office of the head master along with the provost. 

“Master Holmes, “ said the Provost.

“Sir,” said Holmes with a slight nodded of deference.

“I was head master when Mr. Holmes attended Eton. All most handed in my resignation a number of times during his attendance.”

“I am glad that Mycroft managed to talk you out of leave,” said Holmes with a slight smile on his lips.

“You should be glad that he talked me out of dismissing you more than once.” said the Provost. 

“Now that the niceties are out of the way, how was it possible for two boys to be abducted from one of the safest schools in England?”

The two men looked at each other uncomfortably and then back at Holmes, “We honestly don't know. All of the servants have been questions and none have shown any sign of lying. Their fellow students have no inkling of where they are. The only clue we have is a note that was delivered to the boys,” said the Head Master

“Do you have that note?” asked Holmes.

“Unfortunately we do not but several boys saw what they assumed one of the first years enter with a note and hand it to your nephews,” said the Provost.

“Did anyone recognize the lad?” 

“They thought that they did but no one can put a name to him. A number of them think they had seen him before but they don’t know where,” said the Head Master.

“Can I see those boys that were in the room when the note was delivered?” 

The Head Master nodded, “we have assembled them in their house parlor figuring that you would want to do that.”

“Is anyone else missing?”

“One of the stable hands is gone and our math professor has not reported in but he had been off on an errand that might take him a number of days,” said the Head Master. 

We followed the Head Master to where the boys were waiting for us. 

Holmes took me by the arm and said, “I need you to go look at the stables and the kitchen. Talk to the other slaves that work there and see if they saw anything. They will talk to you more easily than if ordered to talk to me.”

I gave a sharp nodded and went towards the kitchen to see what I could learn.

Which turned out not to be much except that the stableman who was missing had been a replacement for another slave that had to be replaced at the last minute due to an accident that had crippled him. Everyone had nice things to say about William and James. The Math Professor was considered a bit of a strange bird but really good with his job and totally devoted to his students. 

I joined up with Holmes and we went to have dinner with the college fellows as per the Head Master’s request.

It was in the middle of the meal that the news of the body was received. Holmes and I went with the local constabulary and the head master to see the bodies.

It was the missing stable hand that had been bludgeoned to death and then garroted for good measure. The look of horror on his face was not one that I would soon forget.

Holmes figured out in short order that the man had seen the abduction and tried to help the boys only to be killed for his troubles. The only positive was that Holmes had an idea of how many men had been there and what sort of cart had taken the boys off who had apparently struggled before being overcome by chloroform which was still faintly on the rag that he found under the body of the stable hand. 

“Now we have a direction Watson,” he said with a toothy grin.

“How so Holmes?” I asked being dubious that this would amount to anything.

“That cart has a rather distinctive wheel making it stand out a bit from the normal comings and goings. We now know that they took off towards the north and I believe that if we take some horses to the crossroads, we can still find some evidence of the direction that they took.”

I found myself on horseback following Holmes across the country following the tracks of the cart that had our two boys. 

Once darkness started to set in, Holmes called a halt and we found an inn to stay at. I had packed us both rucksacks with what we needed for the night and might stretch it for a couple of days if we were kind to our clothes. 

The inn keeper and his wife turned out to be readers of my missives about Holmes that had been published. They were quite honored to have us in their inn and would not take any money but had us sign their well read copies of the Strand Magazine. 

We found ourselves in well situated in a comfortable room with two over stuffed beds.

I was agitated and anxious and Holmes, knowing me so well, decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Watson, strip and present,” he said firmly as he pointed to a cushion he had dropped from the bed to the floor in front of him. 

I took off my clothing, knelt and put my hands behind my head as instructed.

“Close your eyes,” came the order which I obeyed only to find Holmes placing his tie across my eyes as a makeshift blindfold.

He took my hands and had me cross my wrists behind me and tied them together.

He helped me up and then pushed me so I fell across the bed with my ass off the edge of the bed. 

I heard the whisper of the leather before his belt smacked me across the ass. I stifled a groan from the contact. 

“That’s good Watson. Quiet is for the best.”

Now he had given me a challenge. 

He soundly beat me with his belt while I kept from making a sound or rather tried to. The occasional groan or moan would escape my lips. 

I hadn’t realized that he had stopped until he untied my hands and removed the blindfold. He helped me up and sat me on the bed and made me drink some water.

He held me for a bit and then tucked me into bed. 

I found my mind focusing on the heat of my rump rather than the boys and that allowed me to fall into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back for a bit. Thank you for your continued readership and encouragement.


	5. Chapter 4

_From the record of James and William Holmes_

We awoke in what seemed to be a storage room. The bags had been removed from our heads and we were lying on a pallet stuffed with straw with our hands still tied. I came to before William and proceeded to untie his hands then waiting for him to wake up so he could untie mine.

While he was still unconscious, I carefully walked the room we were in. The light came from the hallway under the door but there was no light source within the room. 

I heard a moan from the direction of the pallet.

“William,” I said in a low voice.

“Goawayfivemoreminutes,” came the reply.

“William!” I said more forcefully as I crossed to where I had left my brother.

“James, where are we?” he asked sounding very confused.

“I think a storage room god knows where. I need you to focus and untie my hands,” I plopped next to him and extended my wrists.

“It’s dark in here,” he grumbled.

“Yes, I can see that,” I replied, “now untie me.”

He quickly undid the knots and I rubbed my wrists letting the circulation back into my fingers.

We measured out the room by pace and figured out that the hinges on the door where on the outside of it. So the only way out would be to unlock the door.

But that would be rash because we did not know what our situation was nor how many people might be on the other side of that door.

We heard the key in the lock and scampered over to the far side of the room. We blinking like owls from the light streaming from the room beyond the door.

A man came in and put down a tray and a pitcher. He backed out and then locked the door.

William went to see what was on the tray.

“Bread, cheese, a couple of apples and a pitcher of water it seems.”

“Well bread and water is appropriate,” I quipped.

We divided up the food and proceeded to eat. 

“This water tastes very brackish,” said William.

I took a sip and spit it out, “Don’t drink it. I think it is drugged. Eat the apple instead.”

We finished our food, did our business in the chamber pot, and then settled on the straw mattress curled up with each other for warmth and comfort as we had been doing, according to my father, from practically the day we were born. 

The next couple of days were the same routine. 

William was getting bored which never boded well for me.

We had waited to see if we could figure out what was going on but that was not happening so we decided that escape would be the best thing for it.

William pulled the lock picks he had sewn into the lining of his coat and handed them to me.

“You have the steadier hands of the two of us,” he said.

I agreed and examined the lock on the door which was of a much more recent vintage than the door itself. 

Picking the lock took a bit of doing but we managed to get it done and carefully made our way out of our cell and into the corridor beyond.

William let out a sigh of relief, “No one guarding the door.”

I nodded and asked, “Which way?”

William put his finger in his mouth and then pulled it out. He raised the finger into the air and thought for a bit. 

“This way,” he said pointing to the left.

We snuck down the stone hallway to find a couple of doors that led to other storage rooms. Finally we found a door that seemed to be different.

I picked the lock and we found ourselves looking out onto a courtyard of the manor. 

We snuck out and carefully made our way around the perimeter of the open space before we heard the cries for the house. Apparently our escape had been noticed.

Giving up all pretense for stealth, we ran for the woods and kept running trying to put as much distance between ourselves and the manor we had found ourselves in. 

We heard the dogs howls and the shouts of men as we ran for our lives. 

William had us ford a stream to confuse the animals searching for us.

Eventually we found a rather large hollow tree that we hid in hoping that our pursuers might pass us by.

We waited and waited. I found myself drifting to sleep. William would punch me awake. Finally sleep took us both as we shivered both from the cold and fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not dead. Just kind of brain dead but I have not forgotten about this tale and will continue to tell it.
> 
> I might need a new beta as mine's life has made it hard for them to get things back to me in a timely fashion.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day I found sitting a bit of an adventure but it allowed me to concentrate on what was happening around me. 

We got fresh horses and continued on the trail of the wagon that had absconded with our boys.

This went well until the rains that had been threating finally made their appearance and the faint traces of the wagon vanished as the water hit the dirt. Then the skies opened up and the road became a stream. 

We rode to the next village soaked to the skin. The water had gotten everywhere.

Holmes was in a foul mood having lost the trail. I was not much better. 

We found ourselves at an inn in a small town of Puddlesworth. There was telegraph office so Holmes sent a wire to Mycroft with a coded message of how things were progressing or rather not progressing.

I watched at Holmes paced the small room we found ourselves in. I could see that his mind was racing through what little we knew.

“Not enough information!” finally exploded from his lips and he tore at his hair.

I grabbed his arms and forced his hands to his side. I maneuvered him to a chair and made him sit down. I knelt in front of him and made him look me in the eye.

“What do I need to do?” I asked, “How many I serve?”

Holmes groaned in frustration, “I don’t know. There is something that is just out of sight and I can’t seem to bring it into focus.”

“So tell me what you do know and may be that will help,” I said.

“They were abducted by four men in a dog cart. The stable hand saw what was happening and tried to raise the alarm but was killed before he was heard. I am afraid that the boy that they used to lure the boys out of the commons room is either the son of one of the abductors or dead at this point. The longer we sit here, the further our sons are being removed from us. I asked Mycroft to think again about who might want to do him harm or something that would be a detriment to his job….” his voice trailed off.

“What?” I asked.

“What if this isn’t directed at Mycroft?”

“Sorry?”

“What if this is directed at me? What if this is because of something I have done in the past?”

“But why?”

“It is not unknown that Mycroft is my brother and that he was instrumental in my re-appearance in society. Moriarty’s web was torn asunder but not destroyed entirely and Mycroft’s part in this is rather evident….We need to go back to Baker Street. I need my notes and files.”

He stood up and started packing. I stopped him gently.

“We have to get to the train and there are none until tomorrow Holmes. I will pack us and get us ready to go. We will be home by tomorrow and you can pick up the threads from there. We will find the boys.”

He let me lead him to bed. I sat him on the edge and helped him out of his clothes. I was about to put on his nightshirt when I got a wicked thought.

I sank between his legs and placed my hand gently on his groin. I took my other hand and started gently tickling his balls.

He looked at me, “You are joking.”

I smiled, “No, you need sleep and this relaxes you.”

“I don’t think you are going to get the response you want.”

“Ah, a challenge I believe.”

He snorted in derision but watched as I fondled his cock and balls. Slowly I could feel his interest growing as it were. He watched me very closely. I finally got it to a point that I started to use my mouth on his member with kiss, licks, and sucks along with just breathing on it so he could feel the hot moist heat of my mouth. 

I knew I had him as I heard the stifled moan come from his chest. At that point I started to suck him off in earnest. He released into my mouth after grabbing the back of my head choking me on his cock. He held me there to the point where I saw spots in front of my eyes then let go and I fell back on my heels gasping for the air that I had been denied. He fell back on the bed breathing heavily. I made him sit up and put on his nightshirt then tucked him into his bed. I packed up our kits and made sure ever thing was ready for our travels the next day. 

I went to bed and heard Holmes stir and mumble, “Watson, what would I do without you?”

“Holmes, I have no idea,” I said with a chuckle and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the pause. A lot going on.
> 
> Thanks to those of you still reading. I promise that eventually I will get all the way through this tale.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are fuel to the fire.


	7. Awake in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting this up again. Thank you for your patience in this matter.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

The next morning was not comfortable as my brother’s elbow was firmly in my ribs. (written in the margin: Well you had your foot in my groin.) We managed to untangle ourselves and looked around before creeping out of our hiding place. We listened to the sound of the birds and animals of the forest. Neither of us heard the hounds that had been so prevalent during our escape.

“Now what?” I asked looking at my very slightly taller brother.

He straightened his tie, “Now we find our way home.”

We carefully walked away from where we had been held captive until we found a road. 

William looked up and pointed, “Well that’s North or northish. So the direction we came from was West. So North or South?”

We heard the sound of a cart and scurried off the road into the brush.

We waited while the cart covered with a tarp went past us. The man driving it did not look familiar.

“Well, “ I said, “The cart was full going south so the question is it is going to town or taking supplies to another farm.”

William nodded and looked at the tracks in the road. 

“Town is that way,” he said pointing south.

We took to the road and worked our way to a rather large village. We observed the citizens for a while figuring out who was who. 

“Where are we?” I asked.

William shook his head, “I have no idea. Any posting or signage is on the other side of the village.”

“I am pretty sure we are farther north,” I said.

“The accents?” asked William.

I nodded.

“Not in Scotland,” said William, “but defiantly skirting close to it by the dialect.”

“So we were out for more than a day,” I said, “which means that they dosed us more than once.”

“Yep,” said William who was intently looking at two men who were walking towards our vantage point but stopped at the village line and turned back.

We both let out the breaths we had been holding.

“No train station,” mused William.

“That would have made this easy,” I said.

“But not by much. The question is who’s side are these people on? The law or our captors.”

“Only one way to find out,” I stood up and stepped onto a footpath to the village.

I heard William groan in frustration but followed me.

We walked into the main square where various farmers and the like had carts set up in an impromptu market. 

No one seemed to be looking at us. They seemed much more interested in making deals quickly and getting their purchases. There was a lot of rapid talk and shouting as there is in any market place.

We pooled what little money we had to get a ploughman’s lunch at the local pub and scurried back to the woods to eat and assess where we were.

“Farming community,” said William with his mouth full of apple.

I nodded, “North but not Scotland. I would say from the accents we are still south of the border.”

“Constabulary?” 

I went through the mental map I made as we walked through the town, “Just past the pub I believe. Small station.”

“They are large enough for a telegraph office.”

“Maybe we can get word to Father or our Uncles?”

“It is worth a try,” said William finishing the wedge of cheese.

We picked up the debris from our lunch and walked back into town to the telegraph office.

We never made it to the door as we were stopped by a constable.

“And who might you be my lads?”

William replied with a Scottish accent, “I be Billy and this be my brother Jimmy.”

I nodded knowing that my speaking would not hold up to William’s ability to mimic speech patterns. 

“What brings you to our town?”

“Work,” said William with a moon calf look on his face, “Our Ma and Da got the fever and passed. The local Lord kicked us off the farm and gave it to his folks. So we have been working our way south until we can get to London where we have family.”

The man looked at us. I nodded again playing dumb bumpkin.

“You know lads, I think I have a different story to go with your clothes. I think you are the two boys that Lord Tackart has been looking for. And the reward for your return will feel nice in my pocket.”

“Run!” screamed William as he pushed the constable hard in the chest knocking him over.

I rabbited to toward the woods only to be grabbed by several of the townsfolk who took me back where my brother was being held. They bound our wrists behind our backs and tossed us into a dog cart which carried us off towards the manor house and back into the hands of our captors.

I heard William mutter, “Tackart, why do I know that name?”

I shrugged the best I could and worked on trying to free myself from the ropes. I almost had it done when we arrived but it was fore naught as we were manhandled back into a sidedoor and into our ‘cell’.

“Can’t trust the locals,” said William, “Good to know for next time we escape.”

“Next time we go North,” I said.

He nodded and we proceeded to untie each other’s hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry folks.
> 
> Dropped the ball on this one. No excuses. 
> 
> I have not been in the right frame of mind and my creativity fled as I watch my country be torn down from the inside out. Now worried about health insurance and retirement accounts and half a dozen other things that seem to be vanishing without anyone noticing what is happening or if they do notice, there seems nothing we can do about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok the boys started telling me a story and I decided that I would post it.
> 
> I can't promise that there will be a chapter every day 
> 
> I can promise that the boys will be OK in the end
> 
> Comments and Kudos are my fuel for writing 
> 
> I appreciate each and every reader who takes the time to read my works. That I can entertain you really helps me right now.


End file.
